Soon after I found out I was pregnant the first time, I heard this song and started thinking about the hopes and dreams I had for my unborn baby. I love the words to this song. The first line alone says so much-- "I hope you never lose your sense of wonder." For 13 weeks, I thought about my future child with excitement and hope.
When I found out that the baby would never be born, I was devastated. Only a women who has experienced a loss like this knows the horrible emptiness that comes with it. I was terrified that we would never have the family that we had dreamed of and planned for. Throughout my twenties and my early thirties, I didn't think I wanted children. I loved the lifestyle of having money with no obligation. As I got into my thirties and finally met my soulmate, I knew that he and I were meant to be parents together. After the miscarriage, I was afraid that my selfish self of my twenties was going to get her way.
That loss was on August 5, 2002. I realized today that the anniversary was a couple of weeks ago. This year is the first year that I didn't think of that day on or around that date. I am so focused on what is happening around here, I don't have time to dwell on the past, I suppose.
I wondered today, what life would be like if that baby had made it. He would be 5 1/2 and starting kindergarten. Would he be a teacher's favorite? Would he make me smile every day? Would he love pirates? I rarely think about that child, because if he were here, then Jackson wouldn't be.
I couldn't imagine my life without my sweet boy. Even on days when he is driving me crazy, he will find a way to make my heart swell. He has a smile that lights up a room. And watching him at Stroller Strides being the little junior playgroup captain makes me so proud. He makes sure that other kids are having fun (as long as they are not touching his stuff *eyeroll*) and even welcomes the moms and invites them to coffee with us. While losing that pregnancy was really hard, I have to admit it was a bit of a blessing.
In addition to bringing me my favorite kid in the world, that loss brought me in touch with some wonderful women. I met some of my closest friends through online support groups. Like the green growth growing from the burn area behind our house, six years after that loss, I can see the good things that have come from it.
Here is the song that used to make me cry every time I heard it because it was a reminder. Now it makes me cry for very different reasons. The words to the song still speak to things I want for my children. As I watch Amelia dance, I hope with all my heart that she always chooses to dance instead of sitting it out. To my kids I say to both of them:
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin might mean takin chances but theyre worth takin
Lovin might be a mistake but its worth makin
2 comments:
Lisa, I'm sat here with tears in my eyes and goosebumps covering my body.
It's so bittersweet how miscarriages can totally change our lives and the lives of our loved ones.
Had I never miscarried the last time I would never have met you. You have become a very special part of my life and I thank my angel for blessing me with good friends and making way for the wonderful child that had she not gone before would not be here today.
HUGS !!
oh lisa... that song always makes me bawl like a baby too. it has such incredible meaning to its lyrics. and i completely agree with you. back then the m/c was the hardest thing i went through but now, in hindsight, it was one of the best things to happen to me. i've gotten to know so many amazing women, i've become a shoulder to cry on for other women who have gone through it and i think it's made me so much more sensitive towards pregnancy and pregnancy loss. in a strange way, it probably also brought me to my current occupation -- being a doula and recognizing what a miraculous event birth really is. huge hugs to you. i know this is an old post but i still wanted to comment on it.
take care!
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